The Ambitious City (50 page)

She watched him as he scanned the fruit, picking it up and examining each for bruises. He said something to the young woman in the stall, who laughed heartily and put the fruit in a paper bag. He gave her money, she gave him change—they were animated, enjoying the moment. Aziz thought to herself,
This must be what an ordinary life looks like
 …

Returning to the car, he said, “I’ve got plums here and nectarines, but this peach is ready to eat right now.” He lifted it out of the bag and handed it to her.

“It’s perfect,” she said, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply.

“Actually, that’s what I said to her.” He nodded in the direction of the woman at the fruit stand, who stood watching them, waiting, he suspected, for Fiza’s reaction to the peach. When she saw them both looking at her, she smiled, waved and mouthed something to him.

“What’s she saying?” Aziz was still holding the peach close to her nose, turning it slowly in both hands.

“I think it was ‘good luck.’ Next stop, Manley Ball’s Falls,” he said, fastening his seatbelt.

MacNeice powered the Chevy back onto the highway as Aziz bit into the peach.

My partner in life, Shirley Blumberg Thornley, is the first reader of this book. She is an avid reader of mystery novels and an unerring barometer of authenticity. I’d like to think she rarely has to correct me in that regard, and while that’s mostly true, it isn’t true all the time. I’m human. So is MacNeice. Shirley knows him now—he is the other man in her life.

Anne Collins, my remarkable editor, takes veracity to another level and shows no hesitation in either praise or critique—though the reader will appreciate the fact that criticism always trumps praise. Anne’s contribution and that of the book’s copy editor, Gillian Watts, to my telling of this story is immeasurable. I am grateful, too, for the support of Marion Garner and Louise Dennys at Random House Canada. Bruce Westwood and Chris Casuccio of Westwood Creative Artists became early champions of this book and series, and I deeply appreciate their commitment to me.

Music is a through-line and back story for MacNeice, as it is for me. In my own collection—and passions—I have been guided by
two great friends, Steve Wilson of Toronto and Richard Fleischner of Providence, Rhode Island. Together they have provided me with an incredible playlist. Not only do I write to the music, MacNeice listens in as he drives through Dundurn.

Doctors Dody and John Bienenstock, Dr. Rae Lake and Dr. Sarah Jane Caddick have—sometimes unknowingly—answered psychological, medical or scientific questions that have informed this story. I’m grateful that, no matter how bizarre the question, they all take me seriously—and thank you, Dody, for lending me
The Diary of a Cotswold Parson
. Scott Thornley+Company’s Monika Bohan, Kirk Stephens, Carmen Serravalle, Mark Lyle and Melissa Hernandez have all contributed time and creative energy to this endeavour. Once again and without hesitation, Shin Sugino opened his studio for MacNeice. To Tim Seeton—thank you for your friendship and for bringing Merlin to life.

Finally, as well as Shirley, I’d like to thank my family for accepting, or tolerating, my absence (even when I’m present I’m aware that I’m occasionally absent, strolling the lanes of another city). Thank you to Marsh and Andrea, Ian and Christine, Daniela, Sophia, Ozzie, Charles and Kathryn—for your love and support, without which I’d be a poor man.